


Don't Ever Scare Me Like That

by Forripsy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Fainting, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Insecurity, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Love Confessions, M/M, Sick Lance (Voltron), Sickfic, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forripsy/pseuds/Forripsy
Summary: Lance forces himself to go on a dangerous mission with a high fever.  He gets seriously injured as a result, and Keith has to take care of him.  Fluff and bonding ensue.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 411





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Voltron is the perfect vehicle for whump, so I had a lot of fun making this. I'm still new to writing fanfiction, so criticism is appreciated. Anyway, enjoy my self-indulgent ramblings.

“God damn it, Lance! What was that?”

Lance tightens his hold on the control panel, hoping that it’ll somehow get his senses back in check. Having Shiro and the other paladins echoing the same orders through his mind is not helping the situation. His vision is a lightbox superimposing one moment over the next until it’s impossible to get a grip on what’s happening.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, not having an adequate excuse for his pathetic performance.

The paladins spread out to attack the enemy ship from different angles. Still, they find themselves weaving through a cascade of bullets, some of which are impossible to avoid. Lance knows that he’s far from his target: the ship’s front cannon that could incapacitate Voltron with a single shot. It’s his job to freeze it over so that everyone’s lions can form Voltron and obliterate the ship with a few, well-placed blows. This mission’s success depends almost entirely on Lance.

Why did it have to be him? Why did his body decide to reject him on this particular day? His right side screams with every movement, ringing up through his chest and head. Black tendrils frame his vision, growing longer and longer with the rhythm of his pulse. Lance knows that there’s a pool of blood forming on the seat beneath his gushing wound. He doesn’t look. He doesn’t care because he can’t afford to. If he dies during this mission, then at least he has done something useful.

“Lance? Lance!”

Lance doesn’t register any of the overlapping voices in his ears. He doesn’t even register what’s going on until Blue dips without his permission and starts barreling towards the fleet of enemy fighters below. There’s a display of white and purple lights dancing across his monitor. It’s beautiful and disorientating and… where was he again?

“Lance isn’t respon…” Then Blue goes offline, and so does he.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything is still: a complete contrast to whatever was happening before. He’s enveloped by safe, comfortable darkness. Lance only becomes aware of this feeling after it’s broken by a sharp hissing. The next thing he knows, his flaccid body is draped over another person. They feel firm and sharp, their skin burning against his own.

“K-Keith?” This is the only thought Lance can muster through the static and incessant pounding in his head.

Keith doesn’t respond at first, only lowering him to a kneeling position. Lance becomes aware of the intense cold piercing his body and the inexplicable beads of sweat forming on his face. Didn’t he just get out of a cryopod? 

Keith plants a palm on Lance’s forehead, fingers combing his sweat-soaked bangs out of the way. “Don’t talk,” he says.

“W-wh-what h-ha-happened?” Lance didn’t know what he was expecting, but the roughness and instability of his voice shock him nonetheless. 

“I said don’t talk, dumbass!”

Lance doesn’t have the strength to laugh at Keith’s insult, let alone think of a comeback. He grins, feeling his spine loosen causing him to slump forward. Keith holds him back by the shoulders, looking directly into Lance’s eyes.

“You bled out. No one knew that you were injured. Why did you go off on this mission with a fever? You know just how much of a liability that is! You put everyone at risk!” said Keith, jolting Lance slightly.

Lance’s eyes are wet from fever and shame. The world is on its head. He can’t justify his actions. He can’t even think. The dam breaks and Lance is overwhelmed with a flood of emotion. It’s too much.

Keith’s expression softens, realizing that he had just berated his friend after what must’ve been the worst experience of his life. There’s no use in punishing the guy if he’s already this guilt-ridden. Keith sighs, loosening his grip on Lance. “Look, I’m sure that you have a good reason for doing what you did. You’re clearly in no position to explain yourself right now, and you don’t have to. That’s in the past, and we can talk about it later. Just focus on getting better, alright?”

Lance manages a slight nod, his face pale, tear-stained, and slack. He huffs. Everything is so terrible right now, it’s hard to believe. When Keith took him by the shoulders, Lance couldn’t stand the sight of his face. Those sharp hawk eyes gazing down, judging him. He failed not just himself and his team, but the man he respected the most. Lance didn’t have the intelligence or technical abilities of Hunk and Pidge, nor did he have the drive or leadership skills of Shiro and Allura. Keith was the embodiment of every trait that Lance admired, and he had let him down in his attempt to be useful. How pathetic.

Lance pulls through his mental fog, deciding that he should at least grace Keith’s words with a response. “Heh, I’m s-such a mess right now,” he smiles, trying to lighten the mood.

Keith takes a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “I’m more disgusted by people suffering than I am by how they look.”

“That makes sense.”

Keith nods, letting hair fall in front of his eyes. “You scared the shit out of me back there. When you stopped responding well before Blue went offline, I could hear your breath. You sounded like you were in pain. When I found you in that cockpit, you were in such bad shape. There was blood everywhere, I thought you were dead.”

Lance lets the words sink in. It’s hard to imagine himself spread across the floor, unconscious and bleeding profusely. An image comes to mind of a paladin’s mangled body lying face-down in their cockpit. It could’ve been himself or any of his teammates. It didn’t matter. Fresh tears well in his eyes. “M sorry. I-I didn’t m-mean to scare you. I d-didn’t mean to p-put everyone in danger.”

“Hey, it’s alright. We made it out alive. Just make me a promise.”

“Hm?”

Keith pulls Lance into his chest. The motion makes Lance’s head throb and his vision swim, but he finds himself overcome with warmth from the sudden act of affection.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” says Keith as he wraps Lance in a firm embrace and dries the tears with his jacket sleeve. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Really?” says Lance. “You’re the most competent person I know. What would you need me for?”

“I’m uh, I’m fond of you, Lance.” Keith looks into space, wishing he could retract those words. Did he really just say that? Lance’s expression is impossible to describe, and the uncertainty drives Keith insane. “What I meant to say is, I admire you. You’re so open and charismatic. You have such a passion for life, it’s contagious. I’ve never felt anything like it. And when I see you out, talking to people, bringing out the best in everyone, it reminds me of why I do this. You show me that these lives are worth protecting.”

Lance doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. He can’t even begin to process the electricity coursing through his brain. His hands glide around Keith’s waist into a weak hug. It’s a silent reciprocation, and Lance hopes that it’ll make up for his lack of words. It’s enough validation for Lance to feel secure, and his body releases the full weight of his exhaustion and illness all at once. 

A sharp pang strikes the front of his skull, and Lance feels his limbs stop working. The black tendrils return, covering his eyes and ears until all he can sense is a dull throbbing, the sound of Keith calling his name, and a pair of arms slipping under his knees and torso. Soon, he’s back in that place of safe, warm, stagnant darkness.


	2. Capri Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up the next morning to a very torn and pensive Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal with this fanfiction is to create something that my ten-year-old self would squee at. I think I've succeeded. Kick back with a warm or cool drink depending on your weather conditions and prepare to squee yourself.

A few bars of light stream through Lance’s consciousness. He’s awake, but not willing to open his eyes just yet. His chest rises and falls against an overheated surface. He concentrates on the dim strips as they become more and more focused. The pain in his head is back, though it’s more consistent, only spiking with movement or stimulation. 

Little by little, he thinks. Lance pulls his eyes open just enough to see a set of blinds and the overwhelming light pouring through them. He groans, triggering some footsteps to head his way. There’s a voice speaking above him, possibly to him, but he can’t follow its words. The light, the sound, it’s too much. A scalding hand brushes over his face, causing the headache to grow unbearable. Lance pulls away, coiling into a fetal position, trying to protect his eyes and organs.

He finds himself in a cooler place on the sheets. This time, the hand starts rubbing his back. It’s less uncomfortable, even soothing through his shirt. He opens his eyes only to have them covered again by a cold, wet rag. Lance doesn’t protest. The rag feels amazing on his face, cooling his skin and easing his nerves.

“Hey there. How’re ya feeling?”

It’s Keith. Of course, it’s Keith. Lance pushes the rag away just enough to get a look at him. He’s kneeling by the bed with his face pressed against the mattress and one arm reaching over Lance’s body.

“Oh, y’know. A little less dying than before,” says Lance, trying to sound as confident as possible with his thrashed, wavering voice.

Keith relaxes a bit more. His brows are still furrowed, but at least he’s smiling. “Yeah, you sure sound like it,” he says, flipping the rag back over Lance’s eyes. “You should drink something.”

Before Lance can respond he’s being pushed onto his back and having his face thrust into what feels like a torn water pack. “Oh boy, space Capri Sun!”

“It’s water, Lance.”

“Are you going to serve orange slices and tell me a story?”

Keith deliberately tips the water pack far enough to spill on Lance’s neck and chest.

“Ah, shit,” he says. “So, no story then?”

Keith gives an exasperated sigh. “Just drink it.”

Lance downs as much of the water as his knotted, shrunken stomach will allow. He thanks Keith, sinks into his nest of bedding, and stares at the wall with vacant eyes. They remain silent for a while, Keith sifting his fingers through Lance’s hair and sometimes over his face. It should feel uncomfortable, but Keith brushes aside his feelings of awkwardness and insecurity, seeing how Lance enjoys it. He enjoys it too. Lance looks so vulnerable lying there with his pale, flushed face buried in the sheets. Keith examines him, thumbing through their memories together, playing and replaying past conversations. Some of them are enriched while others turn sour, but they’ve all been colored with a different tone. He lands on their exchange from last night. Something about it felt incomplete. Sure, he was fond of Lance, but that didn’t quite convey his feelings towards him.

“Lance, are you still awake?” he asks.

“Mh hm.”

“About last night. I don’t know if you remember our conversation, but I said some things that may have been out of line.”

Lance takes a moment to recall what happened between falling out of the pod and waking up in his bed. “Uh, you mean the part where you were yelling at me or the part where we cried on the floor together?”

Ooooohhhh, fuck. That did happen, didn’t it? He must’ve repressed those memories. Keith feels the blood rushing to his face. “No, nonono! I mean yes, but not those things specifically. I’m sorry about that.”

“Heheh, it’s alright.” Lance cocks his head and raises the cloth. “You look cute when you’re all flustered like that.”

His words linger like static in Keith’s ears. Is Lance being genuine or was he just fooling around? How the hell should he respond to a comment like that? Keith decides to proceed with caution and shoot the words back at him. “You look cute when you’re sick out of your mind.”

“Oh I know, you’ve been checking me out this whooooooole time. Don’t blame you, no one can resist my charm.”

“I’ll get another water pack just to throw it in your face, Lance.”

“You’re like a more honest Anne Wilkes. If you’re gonna cut my legs off, then at least get me some cool-ass prosthetics.”

“You better not get me to that point.”

“Would it piss you off if I was being serious? Because it’s true, I love it when you open up like that. It’s adorable.”

Keith’s mind is reduced to an incoherent sludge of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Most of them pass before he can identify what they are. They stream down his spine, through his nerves, making his body feel like gelatin. He catches a few sentiments as they go by and tries to form them into some kind of response. “R-really?”

Lance nods. “Sometimes when I hear you speaking with Shiro, your entire demeanor changes. I’ve gotta say, it’s refreshing. You have such an interesting outlook, I think you take it for granted.”

Keith grips the fabric of his jeans. He gets a glimpse of Lance’s soft, feverish expression before looking down to hide his own. His vision goes blurry as tears form and drip down onto his pants. The feeling echos through his skull and rib cage. It’s warm and dizzying. Not sadness or even happiness, but validation? Security? It feels like a thousand pounds off his back: a weight he never knew existed until now. 

“Lance, last night I said that I was fond of you, but it’s much more than that,” Keith takes a deep breath in and looks back up, tears and all. “I love you.”

Lance chuckles and reaches out to wipe Keith’s tears away with his thumb. “I knew what you meant back there, it was practically written on your face. I love you too, Keith.”

Keith laughs his nerves away and slumps back. The air in the room becomes so much easier to breathe. It pulls him out of his ego. The two of them sit in silence for a few minutes until Keith can fully process what just happened. Lance goes limp, his breathing more labored as if their exchange sucked the last ounce of energy from his body. Keith peels the rag from his eyes and is struck by just how much heat it had absorbed in such a short amount of time. He sees Lance’s face contorted in pain, his eyes dancing beneath closed lids. It digs a pit in Keith’s stomach, causing his maternal instincts to kick in.

“Lance?”

Lance’s eyes flutter open, not looking in any particular direction.

“I’ve gotta take your temperature again, you’re getting way too hot.”

“Mmmmmm… why thank you….”

Shit, he’s so delirious that his jokes aren’t even funny. “C’mon, just stay awake for a minute. I’ll let you rest, but we’ve gotta do this first.”

“How romantic.”

“You’re sick, buddy,” says Keith on his way out.

He doesn’t acknowledge the other paladins when heading to the infirmary, instead opting to take a roundabout way through their training room. Keith takes what he needs: some clean rags, a thermometer, medicine, and an empty trash bin. Water. He still needs water.

The hallways smell of broth and spices, growing stronger as he approaches the kitchen door. Hunk is inside sniffing alien plants to determine if they’d be suitable ingredients. He stops, seeing Keith with one arm rummaging through their water supply and the other holding a trash bin filled with god knows what.

“Woah, man. You trying to mop the training decks or something?”

Keith gathers an armful of water pouches and shoves them into the bin with everything else. “No, but close. I’m planning to mop Lance’s sweaty ass off the map for that little stunt he pulled yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re gonna see Lance? Let him know I made something for him. It’s the alien equivalent of a soup my parents used to make me whenever I was sick. You’re free to have some too if you’d like. Just don’t sue me if causes you to die in your sleep.”

Keith nods, feeling Hunk’s eyes on his back as he heads towards the door. He stops, looking down at his bin of supplies, and considers how much effort it would take to replicate an Earth recipe using extraterrestrial plants. “Um, thanks,” he says before making a beeline to Lance’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the abrupt ending in this chapter, but I couldn't find a logical stopping point. I'm so happy that you guys seem to be enjoying this. Thank you for your input, I really appreciate it. Criticism is welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write more chapters. Let me know what you think.


End file.
